When my daughter was in high school, we had elderly friends who lived out in the country. One day, a squirl was killed in the road in front of their home and that afternoon, there was a baby squirl in their fron yard crying for it's mama. They figured she was the dead squirl. They scooped the baby up and put it in a cage. When we came to visit later that day, they gave the little one to us. We took him home and named him Charley. We stopped on the way and picked up a pet nursing bottle and a can of kitten formula. That little guy took to it like he had always drunk from a bottle. We raised Charlie and kept him for almost a year. He would ride around on our shoulders and cry when left alone for to long. Eventually, we took him to a wildlife rehab center and after a couple of weeks, he was returned to the wild to live with the other squirls. We miss him to this day.
